Stood within the center of this fiery exhibit stood a lone figure, his arms let to hang on either side of a long black robe, open at the front to reveal his slender chest and heated skin, rising red from the intense heats that surrounded him, encased him. The thin cloth almost hissed as stray sparks struck its fabrics, making it burn through to his delicate skin, but he did not flinch or pull away from the stinging pain that sunk to his bones. The flames began to eat into the grass around them, their fuel, their food and the purpose that drove them inwards and outwards, expanding the diamond and shrinking it at the same time. As the awe-inspiring strength of the consuming flame grew, so too did the heat of the grove, the air around it wavering and vibrating.

A tear in his almond-shaped eyes, the elven figure dropped slowly to his knees, his dark robes billowing out around him. Sweat matted his forehead, his arms and hands, his revealed chest and bare feet. His eyes were set though, damp but determined, his lips arid but assured. Dark hazel orbs roamed over the display of cerise that danced and dazzled before his eyes, enlightening every awe-struck and fascinated emotion within him. Slowly he let his eyes fall, allowing them to peer at the parched grass on which he now knelt, absently and unthinkingly dirtying his ebon robes with grass-stains, but none of that mattered.

The flames would consume him soon, and he like the air around him and the lawn about him, would become its fuel. His clothes, his crimson hair and every fiber that made up his body would become part of the inferno, encasing him within its boundaries, His eyes devouring that which he had remained so loyal. This is where he needed to be, not alone; never alone. There were greater things for him, and such extravagances did not include a seemingly endless wait in a small riverside hamlet for a single person; Avaene, the only person for whom he�d ever cared beside himself and He who was all around him now.

The elven figure could feel the heat licking him, tasting his skin as it charred it from his flesh and robes, his long and flowing midnight silk going up in flames at the mere touch, singeing his hair and burning his skin raw. He closed his eyes, enjoying the heat, enjoying the soul cleansing blazes that would soon take him away, take him to the realm of his lord, far from here, far from her. His sweat-soaked body was indistinguishable through the flames now, only the towering columns of fire that had joined to become one being visible to anyone entering the grove at such a moment. Tears melted from his eyes before they could even touch his cheeks, fizzing and evaporating into the oxygen-less air around him�

�Feanor! Holy shit, Feanor!�

Firm hands grabbed the elf around the waist from behind, pulling him unwillingly to his feet and then dragging him backwards, backwards, out of the flames and the heat and the blaze that would moments later have taken his life. He went limp in the firm arms that pulled him, wanting to give up there and then, his conscience almost lost to a point that he knew not what was happening. The burnt grass grazed his back, enflaming the skin more than it already was through holes in what remained of the robe he wore loosely around his slender form. Somebody was stealing him� taking him from the eternal flames� snatching him from the grasp of the Firelord, his Lord, Kossuth� who would deprive him of the life that was promised to him in the plane of fire? There was nothing here for him now� she�d vanished, disappeared, the only person he�d ever cared for� left him alone in this world� and he was being excluded from his escape�

Letting his head tip back just slightly, Feanor allowed his eyes to flicker open, dark hazel orbs matted with tears staring at the slender but muscled form that gripped him tight to it�s curved chest, the only thing between him and an unconscious slumber on the grass underfoot�

�Avaene?�

Avaene gripped him tightly in her arms as he murmured her name before falling into unconsciousness, the heats that had threatened to take his life having taken instead every ounce of energy in his body. Tenderly brushing sweat-matted, red locks of his hair from his soaked face, the elven woman tutted and shook her head, her own eyes littered with tears that she struggled to hold back. This was not how she�d planned her return to Pilgrim�s Rest at all; she still had no idea what had possessed him to do such a thing. Compared to this feat of insanity, setting her ear on fire so many months ago didn�t seem so bad anymore. Taking a long, deep and wavering breath, Avaene patted the last of the flames out of his hair and robes, falling to the ground with his unconscious form in her lap. Her voice quaked as she stared at the flames still towering in the center of the growth, too emotionally wrecked to even consider extinguishing them. Her voice came out with difficulty, a quavering sound on her cracked lips.

�You have a� lot of explaining to do� Feanor.�